Bitter Warmth
by Keirin
Summary: After 'The sacrifice' Elena can't discern the difference between feeling trapped and feeling safe. It's up to Damon to clear things up.
1. Chapter 1

Time-line and setting: After episode 2.10 the Sacrifice - Stefan is still stuck in the tomb with Katherine. So Elena didn't make the deal with Klaus yet. It's winter.

Summary: After 'The sacrifice' Elena can't discern the difference between feeling trapped and feeling safe. It's up to Damon to clear things up.

Authors Note: Went with first person, present tense - I thought this could make for some interesting introspective moments, getting to know Damon and Elena. It's a bit of an experiment. So please tell me if and when I manage to botch it up. There will be a plot, somewhere in the near future ;)

* * *

**Bitter Warmth**

Chapter 1

* * *

_**Elena**_

I lift my fingers to the frosted glass, watching as the ice crystals slowly melt on the other side. The world outside is a beautiful cold white. It's 3 in the morning. The sensible part of Mystic Falls still sleeps. But I can't sleep, and I'm most certainly not sensible enough to do so.

_/Get your ass out the door before I throw you over my shoulder and carry you out myself./_

Damon's words still ring loud in my head. His gaze chilly, his body strong and solid, bearing down on me. I know he cares, too much. But I doubt he actually enjoys it.

The house is silent, warm. I should stay inside. It's much safer.

I thought I wanted to be safe. A normal life. Life. But there's no turning back. I am snared, waiting to be poached, simply because someone wants to use my blood. Use me, because it seems I only exist to be used. Because I look like her.

The house suffocates me. My bedroom feels smaller than before.

I pull a woolen vest over my sweater and add a second layer of socks. I trap my boots under my elbow as I descent the wooden stairs. The steps seem to agree with me for once, staying blissfully silent. Only two hurdles left.

I quietly grab my coat - One.

I unlock the door - Two.

I succeed at both, though the latter seems to echo loudly through the house. My heart thumps as I wait a few long seconds, holding the door open. There are no frantic out-of-bed noises coming from upstairs, no curious voices calling out. The sensible people of Mystic falls are still sleeping. Once outside and on the porch I pull on my boots and button up my coat.

I am not going to do something stupid. I'm not planning to throw myself in to the tomb. I just need to be closer. He's in there, with her. And she looks so much like me.

It's immediately obvious I can't take the car. Starting the engine would wake up the entire neighborhood. And if that wouldn't do the trick, having to scratch the thick layer of ice from the windows would.

I pull up the edges of my collar, regretting the absence of my scarf. As I slide my bare hands into the pockets of my coat I also realize that mittens would not be considered an added luxury.

I stubbornly trudge onward, willing myself to walk away from the house.

* * *

_**Damon**_

The light in her bedroom is still on. It's not an unusual sight, not even at 3 o clock in the morning. I can see her shadow at the window. She briefly touches the glass with her fingers.

She moves away, bending over. Pulling something on. Then the light switches off.

She wouldn't...-

She would.

The stupidity of this girl eludes even me. Still, she seems to have wrapped me around her dainty little finger.

I care.

I made a promise.

Two of many reasons why I'm here, watching her. Making sure she's safe.

I silently curse as I hear her descending the stairs inside the house. A rustle of cloth follows and then the loud 'click' of the front door unlocking.

Her aunt, even her oblivious brother must have heard the door unlocking. But nothing happens, the residents of the house sleep on in blissful ignorance.

As Elena steps outside and pulls on her boots - I step back, behind the trees, letting the shadows fold in. I should confront her, stop her right now. But something in the set of her shoulders holds me back. Perhaps it's simple curiosity. Wanting to see how far she'll go, for him.

She is fragile, cold. And not at all properly dressed for a midwinter adventure. I can see her hesitation, a tiny flicker of it, before her stubborn nature wins out and she walks away from her house.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: Thanks for the thoughtful responses so far :) The second chapter is always harder than the first! I had some trouble getting it to be not ridiculously short (I'm an incredibly slow writer) and I'm also having a lengthy inner debate on how to handle the pov of the chapters after this one... Well without further ado, I'll leave you to the story!

* * *

**Bitter Warmth**

Chapter 2

* * *

_**Elena**_

What am I doing? What am I doing? The thought twitches in my mind. Incessantly. I'm nearly halfway to the tomb. This is where the main path meets the edge of the old woods. It's not the darkness of the night but the reflection of the snow that makes the familiar forest look foreign. The smidgen of warmth I managed to built up during my brisk walking pace quickly evaporates while I'm standing still.

And with it so does most of my determination. Still, I walk onwards. If only to keep myself moving.

I'm surprised I made it this far, not because of the cold. But because everyone around me has been keeping me on such a tight leash. They won't let me go near the moonstone either.

For the past week Bonnie has been dropping by so often it almost feels like _before_. While Caroline insists on watching romcoms at night. Even Alaric keeps hovering around the house. Though I bet he sees spending time with Jenna as a bonus.

Then there's Damon. He's been strangely absent. I've only seen him twice after our argument at the tomb. And never alone. I saw him drinking at the bar in the Mystic Grill. His back turned away from me. And at my house for five minutes while he talked to Alaric.

He left without looking at me.

The forest is an ever silent companion. The thick layer of snow insulates the immediate area like a soundproof box.

I spot one of the stone markers and turn left. The tomb is close. Most of the snow reflects the waxing quarter moon and gives me a better vision than usual at night, but knowing what secrets hide beneath these layers of earth makes me thread carefully.

I look for the hidden gap in the rocks and earth, leading downwards.

There it is.

I've gone out, it's cold and now I'm here, alone. And they are in there, together.

I stand and stare at the dark gap while my thoughts fracture and fall apart.

What am I doing? What am I doing?

* * *

**_Damon_**

She seems to move with single-minded purpose. For a short moment I pretend I'm walking with her instead of following. I wonder if she'd notice my presence either way, if she is as aware of me as I am of her.

Elena's cheeks are red, her fingers pale. She has tucked her hair into the collar of her coat. She's tougher than she looks. Knowing her she'd try to challenge Death, win - and kill herself in the process.

I did not sign up for this. I made a promise. To protect her, yes. But I'm sure the job description never said I'd actually have to pretend to be the hero. Yet here I am, chasing after Mary-Jane.

Being around Elena, knowing Stefan can't touch her, knowing I can't touch her either - not the way I want to.

It's agonizing.

A part of me - a very substantial part, doesn't understand why I'm letting this happen. With Stefan out of the picture, things should be _easier_. But this isn't some random girl I can just flash my eyes at - compulsion or not. This is Elena. And he's still my brother.

We're...- she's getting closer to the tomb. The snow has provided the small clearing with an immaculate blanket. Deftly hiding the traces of everything that has happened the past week.

The upper entrance to the tomb used to be nothing more than a large hole in the ground, dug out further since the numerous previous occupants escaped. Now it's inconspicuously marked with some well-placed rocks and there's a clear route down if you know where to look.

Elena obviously knows where to look. She's standing still now. Looking at the rocky hole.

And she's shaking.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Sorry for the delay, college is a PITA ;) Hope I'm getting the characters down properly. I've decided to continue to work from Elena's and Damon's POV with a small 'overlap' between them, whatever feels more natural for the story.

* * *

**Bitter Warmth**

Chapter 3

* * *

**_Elena_**

My chest feels hollow, my legs numb. It's not just the cold that makes me tremble; the hole in the ground is now a gaping mouth, dark and toothless.

The forest is definitely not on my list of places to have a break down. So I clamp down my jaws and breathe in the frigid air through my nose, trying to rearrange my thoughts.

I'm scared and exhausted. I want to talk to Stefan, but I'm not sure how I can accomplish that without being confronted with the twisted mirror that is Katherine. And if I _do_ manage to talk to him alone, what is there to chat about? What would I say?

'Hope you're not starving, are my veins distracting you?' - 'I miss having you around, wish _I _had someone around that looked like you.' - 'Good news! Your brother is doing his very best to ignore me, I'm sure you're pleased.'

Every imagined attempt at conversation sounds ridiculous.

I briefly close my eyes and push the inane thoughts away. The world still looks the same but somehow I feel a little less alone, a little less scared. I'm not ready to go down to the tomb and not ready to leave either. There's a fallen tree trunk a few feet away and I decide to rest my legs while I contemplate either decision. I brush off the layer of snow with my sleeve when there's a sudden breeze catching the powdered snow, pushing it towards the edge of the clearing - making it glint like fine sugar.

I frown, the pale glint remains. I then realize that he's here, watching me.

He's standing in the shadows of the leafless trees, just outside the small clearing. He takes a few steps forward, into the moonlight. His pale blue eyes drift on my body and then shift to my face.

"Damon," I whisper.

In the empty space of my chest I feel a tiny tendril of warmth, blooming - before I vigorously stomp it out.

He raises his brows, frowns and then gives me a small smirk.

"Next time you lose your way to the fridge just send a text, I can point it out for you on google maps," he jibes and then turns serious in the space of a second. "Why are you here?"

I am embarrassed for three whole seconds until anger makes my cheeks burn instead. "Why do you care?" I mutter.

He still looks at me, his right brow slowly raising. I'm not sure if he's mocking me or if he's only silently repeating his previous question. I silently return his stare, trying to look determined and _not_ cold.

"You're cold," he states.

I break eye contact, feeling exposed and look down at my treacherous hands hiding inside my sleeves, pale frigid fingertips peeking out.

There's a rustle of leather and cloth and then he's next to me. So close. His leather jacket is cold, but when he lays it over my shoulders I feel warm. When he rubs his hands up and down over my arms - trying to create friction, I almost feel hot. When he tries to move one of my arms into a leather sleeve I pull away, cheeks burning once more.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," I say and proceed to put the rest of his coat on by myself. He motions for me to zip it up, his hands already reaching for the zipper. I fumble, my fingers too stiff.

Damon gently bats my hands away and zips up the jacket. His fingers adjust the collar and then he pauses. He looks at me again and I can't help but look back. Both of his hands still linger on the leather collar until he slides his right hand behind my head.

My heart beats an inconsiderately loud rhythm in my ears. His fingertips touch the soft skin of my neck.

One end of his mouth tilts upwards and he gives me a crooked smile.

And then he gently pulls my long hair out of the collar of the jacket, letting it tumble down on my shoulders.

I release my breath, mentally chiding myself for thinking he would, for thinking I would let him...

* * *

_**Damon**_

The skin of her neck is warm and soft. I can see and hear her fluttering pulse. It would be so easy to pull her close to me, to breathe in the scent of her skin. To really touch her.

She looks flustered and I allow her a small smile. While I used to take immense pleasure in baiting her and edging her on, it's no longer just a game.

I try to memorise the soft silky texture as I release her hair from the trappings of my coat. She exhales and I give her - and myself - some reprieve by taking half a step back.

"I get it," I say and pretend to look bored. "You want to see him."

"Yes," she says, familiar determination now ringing through her voice.

"Well, go on," I make a gracious gesture towards the tomb a few yards behind her. "Ladies first."

She glares at me, clearly unhappy that events aren't unfolding on her terms, then resolutely turns and walks to the tomb. I follow. When we get to the entrance of the tomb she pauses, but doesn't turn to look at me.

"I want to go alone," she says quietly.

"Sorry-"

"Please."

"No."

She finally turns to me. I can see her steeling herself for a verbal fight she's never going to win. I can't help but admire her courage and the way her dark eyes shine with angry determination. _Ugh_, I am so whipped.

"I am coming with you, don't think I wouldn't-" I stop talking.

Something is wrong. It's in the air, or rather it's _not_ in the air. I grab her shoulders, confusion obvious in her eyes. "Stay here," I give her shoulders a soft but firm squeeze intended to imprint the seriousness of the situation. "And don't move!"

I rush down, vampire speed. It's darker here, but my eyes easily adjust. The tomb itself is still 'open', nothing seems to have changed.

"Stefan?"

My voice reverberates in the cold darkness of the tomb.

Silence.

I can't go in, so I close my eyes and stretch out my senses. But there's nothing but a stale scent lingering, empty.

No Stefan. No Katherine.


End file.
